


The Marriage of the Last Princess of Triton

by Fairleigh



Series: Pulp SF Worldbuilding Origfic [1]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Gen, Planetary Cultures, Political Marriage, Pulp Science Fiction, Worldbuilding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-27
Updated: 2020-03-27
Packaged: 2021-02-28 02:08:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22975909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fairleigh/pseuds/Fairleigh
Summary: A journalist visits the Venusian city of Aurum to report on the marriage of the Last Princess of Triton.
Series: Pulp SF Worldbuilding Origfic [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1736716
Comments: 4
Kudos: 14
Collections: Worldbuilding Exchange 2020





	The Marriage of the Last Princess of Triton

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Quillori](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quillori/gifts).



Aurum is beautiful, even in the least favorable of planetary conditions. To see it at its best, however, one would be well advised to visit Venus’s most ancient city during high spring, when the sea refracts the sun’s light at exactly the right angle and the buildings appear set ablaze in brilliant, swirling shades of peach, rose, and gold.

Nowadays, discriminating experience-seekers customarily proclaim to prefer skiing on the rings of Uranus or paragliding through the storm clouds of Jupiter. The managing editor of the travel section of this august biannual periodical swears by the ice-fishing on Europa. But as for me, well, I am first and foremost a traditionalist at heart, a humble Martian boy, born and bred, and never have I known greater joy in the depths of my soul than when swimming in the Venusian Sea.

So although I was onworld to cover the highly anticipated marriage of the last princess of Triton, because it was high spring, and because I have always adored the swimming, I declined to hire a submarine cab at port and elected instead to swim to Aurum’s central district myself.

‘Swimming’ is, of course, a bit of misnomer. The Venusian Sea is thicker than air and thinner than water, so one does not so much ‘swim’ as ‘hop-skip’ through the creamy currents of yellow. Optimal movement requires hardly more effort than walking, though, thankfully, and the ambient heat of the sea soothes these old arthritic bones of mine. Earth has saunas and hot springs; Venus has the great outdoors.

I arrived in the central district approximately two hours prior the commencement of the wedding ceremony. To my eyes, Aurum had never looked more beautiful. Municipal buildings had been renovated; streets had been polished. Banners emblazoned with Triton’s royal ice-emerald and indigo colors hung from every balcony, undulating gracefully in the lazy westward current like the giant sea lettuce fronds of Neptune’s marine forests.

One might have thought that Triton’s cool colors would clash badly with Aurum’s warmer hues. Nothing, as it turned out, could have been further from the truth. They complemented each other exquisitely, and I fully expect to see Saturn’s stylish set bedecked in gold and green within the next system rotation. I mutter a quick prayer under my breath to the Great Spirit—may she bless the bride and groom with lifelong matrimonial bliss.

Spirit knows they deserve it! Who left alive amongst us has not heard of the horrors which civil war has wrought upon Triton? The ice palace, smashed to shards? The coral fields, reduced to lifeless rubble? The show trials and summary executions of King, Queen, and Crown Prince, one after the other after the other? It is a miracle, truly, that the Princess escaped the pogroms with her life.

 _Ah, but enough of this evil talk of war_ , I admonished myself silently as I took my seat in the press box. _This is meant to be the happiest of days! Look at the smiles on the faces of each and every Aurumian citizen! How they treasure their handsome young Prince! How eager they are to welcome their exotic new Princess into their collective embrace!_

The low buzz of excited chatter quieted when the processional music began. The traditional tune was played with a lovely instrumental ensemble of lap harps, Venusian bells, and Tritonian water pipes. Chant was provided by the famed opera soprano Marir Callie.

His Highness, Grand Duke of Argentum Falls and Prince of Venus, emerged first. His burnt umber complexion and flaxen ringlets are classic Venusian, and in his ceremonial gold kefta he was every inch the prince. Girls sighed as he passed, and I suspected a few of them were forced to conceal disappointed sobs; after today, the known galaxy’s most eligible bachelor would be eligible no longer!

But truth be told, we might be fortunate enough to glimpse High Highness out and about town any day of the week. One would have to be living on a remote asteroid indeed to fail to recognize his face upon sight. The person I — and the rest of the Aurumian crowd — had turned out to the streets in our great gathered numbers this high spring morn to see was not the Prince but rather the Princess.

Our patience was soon rewarded. When the Tritonian procession emerged, Her Serene Majesty was a sight to behold. Her skin was milk-white, and her hair was aquamarine. In place of legs, she, like all Tritonians, carried herself upon two long, scaly, undulating, serpent-like appendages glittering with fractured iridescence in the mellow Venusian light. She passed so near the press box, in fact, that I thought I could see the paper-thin webbing between her slender fingers.

I must confess that I felt a bittersweet pang in my breast. After all, is there not a man alive today who had not, in boyhood, dreamed of stepping out with an Outer System mermaid?

The wedding itself was short and sweet. The legal obligations and expectations of political marriages of this type are always hammered out contractually, in writing and well in advance; the public witnessing is purely symbolic. But as I watched the Princess mingle her exotic blue blood with the Prince’s more common hemoglobin rich red, I could not help but remind myself that symbols — and the stories which contain them — have tremendous power.

Aurum’s post-wedding celebration commenced promptly after the conclusion of the wedding ceremony, and celebrants ate, drank, and danced long into the night. The Venusian water dance is justly famous for its unparalleled grace and elegance, and even I, with my two left feet, enjoyed a lively turn or three at the courtyard ball with my fellow interplanetary journalistic correspondents.

Only the Great Spirit knows what tomorrow will bring; yes, that is an eternal truism. But today the Last Princess of Triton was wed, and a precious seed of lasting peace between the planets has been sowed. I for one look forward to seeing it flower and fruit in the full goodness of future time.


End file.
